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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
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http://www.archive.org/details/switzerlandOOstod 



THE TRAVEL SERIES — No. 4 
Published Weekly Price, 50 Cents Annual Subscription, $25.00 November 15, 1897 



ENTERED AT THE CHICAGO POST-OFFICE AS SECOND-CLASS MATTER 



Switzerland 



BY 



JOHN L. STODDARD 



Illustrated and Embellished with One Hundred 

and Twenty-one Reproductions 

of Photographs 




CHICAGO 
BELFORD, MIDDLEBROOK & COMPANY 

MDCCCXCVII 



Copyright, 1897, by John L. Stoddard 



SWITZERLAND 



BY 



JOHN L. STODDARD 



ILLUSTRATED AND EMBELLISHED WITH ONE HUNDRED 

AND TWENTY-ONE REPRODUCTIONS 

OF PHOTOGRAPHS 




7- 



CHICAGO 

BELFORD, MIDDLEBROOK & COMPANY 

MDCCCXCVII 




TWO COPIES HFCEIVED 



ny^ i 1 



Copyright, 1897 
By John L. Stoddard 






Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 
all rights reserved 



/ 



i>?3 




^/ 



THE Parsees say that mountains are the heads of the long 
pins that bind the world together. Geologists assure 
us that they are merely wrinkles on the face of Mother 
Earth, while we all know that, relatively to the world's 
diameter, the highest elevation of our planet is but the thick- 
ness of a hair laid on an ordinary globe. 

But these comparisons do not affect the grandeur of the 
peaks themselves, when we behold them face to face, crowned 
with unmeasured miles of snow, girded with glaciers as with 
coats of mail, and towering up among the clouds as though to 
storm the very heights of Heaven. If it be true, as some 
have claimed, that travel blunts the edge of enjoyment, and 
renders one indifferent and blase, it is true only of those arti- 




A CHATEAU NEAR INTERLAKEN. 



4 SWITZERLAND 

ficial charms which form the attraction of great cities and the 
pleasure-haunts of men. These may at last grow wearisome. 
But Nature wears a freshness and a glory that can never fade. 




INTEKLAKEN. 




Continual worship at her shrine 
increases our desire for that hap- 
piness which only Nature gives, 
and adds to our capacity for its appreciation. 

Switzerland, then, of all countries in the world, is the one 
of which the traveler is likely to tire least. The vision of its 
kingly Alps must always thrill the heart with exultation. Its 
noble roads and unsurpassed hotels make rest or travel on its 
heights delightful; while the keen tonic of its mountain air 
restores the jaded frame, as ancients dreamed a draught would 
do from the pure fountain of perpetual youth. 

One of the most attractive gateways to this land of moun- 
tains is Interlaken. All tourists in Switzerland come hither, 
almost of necessity. No other point is quite so central for 
excursions. None is more easy of approach. As its name 



SWITZERLAND 



5 



indicates, it lies between two famous lakes which rival one 
another in respect to beauty. Before it, also, are the charm- 
ing vales of Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald, which lead one 
into the very heart of the Bernese Oberland. Moreover, from 
sixty to eighty thousand people come here every year to 
render homage to the peerless sovereign who holds court at 
Interlaken. There is no need to name the peak to which I 
thus allude, for everywhere in Interlaken we discern the crown- 
ing glory of the place — beside which all others fade — 
the lovely Jungfrau, queen of Alpine heights. Her grand, 
resplendent form fills the entire space between the encircling 
peaks, and forms a dazzling center-piece of ice and snow, 
nearly fourteen thousand feet in height. It is a never-ending 
pleasure to rest upon the broad piazzas of Interlaken's pala- 
tial hotels, and gaze upon this radiant mount. It sometimes 
looks like a great white cloud forever anchored in one place, but 
oftener sparkles as if covered with a robe of diamonds ; mantled, 
as it is, with snows of virgin purity from base to heaven-pierc- 
ing summit. 




JUNGFRAU FROM INTERLAKEN 



6 SWITZERLAND 

Yet were we to examine closely a single section of the 
Jungfrau, we should discover that its shoulders are covered 
with enormous snow-fields, the origin of stupendous ava- 
lanches. For amid all this beauty there is much here that 




PARLIAMENT BUILDINGS, BERNE. 



is harsh and terrible. Appalling precipices, dangerous cre- 
vasses, and well-nigh constant falls of hundreds of tons of rock 
and ice, render the wooing of this " Maiden of the Alps " a 
difficult undertaking. In fact, the name Jungfrau, or Maiden, 
was given to the mountain, because its pure summit seemed 
destined to remain forever virgin to the tread of man. Many 
had sought to make her conquest, but in vain. At last, how- 
ever, in 1811 (nearly thirty years after the subjugation of 
Mont Blanc), two brothers gained the crest ; and since that 
time its icy slopes have reflected the forms of many ambitious 
and courageous travelers. 

No tourist who has been at Intcrlaken on a pleasant even- 
ing can possibly forget the vision which presents itself as 
day reluctantly retires from the Jungfrau at the approach of 
night. 



SWITZERLAND 



II 



And thus alway, 

By night or day, 
Her varying suitors homage pay; 

And tinged with rose, 

Or white with snows, 
The same fair radiant form she shows. 



I have said that Interlaken was an admirable place from 
which to make excursions. Shall we not put this to the proof 
by entering now the charming and romantic vale of Lauter- 
brunnen, dainty and lovely as a dimple in the cheek of Nature? 
It is only half a mile in width, and is bounded on both sides by 
lofty mountains, over which the winter's sun can hardly climb 
till midday. And yet luxuriant vegetation covers it, as with 
an emerald carpet. The bases of these mountains seem to rest 
on flowers. The awful scenery which surrounds it makes it seem 
doubly sweet and fair; and one can hardly imagine a more 
striking picture than that of this 
peaceful valley, looking smilingly 
up into the stern and savage faces 
of the monsters which environ it, 
as if unconscious of its helpless- 
ness, or trusting confidently in 
their mercy. 

A little distance | 
up the valley, we 
note its most re- 
markable feature, 
the Fall of the 
Staubbach, or 
" Dust -brook," 
which here leaps 
boldly over the 
brow of the 
mountain. 




THE STAUBBACH. 



12 



SWITZERLAND 




\ALLEV OF LAUTERBRUNNEN. 



all the colors of the rainbow, 
rocks. Byron compared it to 
streaming in the wind ; but 
Goethe's description is best, 
when he exclaims: 

" In clouds of spray. 
Like silver dust, 
It veils the rock 
In rainbow hues; 
And dancing down 
With music soft, 
Is lost in air." 

But the ambitious trav- 
eler will ascend far higher 
than the summit of this 
waterfall to stand upon the 
mighty cliffs which line the 
valley like gigantic walls. 



nine hundred and 
eighty feet above us. 
Long before it reaches 
the ground, it is con- 
verted into a vast, 
diaphanous cloud of 
spray, -which the 
breeze scatters into 
thousands of fantastic 
wreaths. Whenever 
the sunlight streams 
directly through this, 
the effect is marvelous. 
It then resembles a 
transparent veil of sil- 
very lace, woven with 
fluttering from the fir-clad 
the tail of a white horse, 




NG TO MLKKEN. 



SWITZERLAND 



SUNSET AT INTERLAKEN. 

The sun is low; 

Yon peak of snow 
Is purpling 'neath the sunset glow; 

The rosy light 

Makes richly bright 
The Jungfrau's veil of snowy white. 

From vales that sleep 

Night's shadows creep 
To take possession of the steep; 

While, as they rise, 

The western skies 
Seem loth to leave so fair a prize. 

The light of Day 

Still loves to stay 
And round that pearly summit play; 

How fair a sight, 

That plain of light 
Contended for by Day and Night! 




lO 



SWITZERLAND 



Now fainter shines, 

As Day declines, 
The lustrous height which he resigns; 

The shadows gain 

Th' illumined plain; 
The Jungfrau pales, as if in pain. 




ON LAKE THUN. 

When daylight dies, 

The azure skies 
Seem sparkling with a thousand eyes. 

Which watch with grace 

From depths of space 
The sleeping Jungfrau's lovely face. 

And when is born 

The ruddy Dawn, 
Forerunner of the coming Morn, 

Along the skies 

It quickly flies 
To kiss the Maiden's opening eyes. 



The timid flush, 

The rosy blush, 
Which then o'er brow and face do rush, 

Are pure and fair 

Beyond compare, 
Resplendent in the illumined air. 




y 

2 

:t3 



SWITZERLAND 



15 




COMFORT IN SWITZERLAND. 



The task is 
easily accom- 
plished now. 
Ten years ago 
it was an ardu- 
ous climb, on 
horseback or on 
foot ; but now 
an electric rail- 
road winds for 
miles along the 
edge of frightful 
precipices, and (where a vertical ascent is absolutely neces- 
sary) another kind of car lifts one a thousand feet or so 
toward heaven, as smoothly and as swiftly as a hotel elevator. 
Truly the visitor of a dozen years ago perceives amazing 
changes to-day among the Alps. Where, formerly, a man 
would hardly dare to go on foot, trains now ascend with myri- 
ads of travelers! Hotels 
and even railroad stations 
up among the clouds have 
driven from the lofty 
crags the eagle and the 
chamois. This to the 
genuine Alpine climber 
seems like sacrilege; but, 
after all, what contribu- 
tors to the happiness of 
mankind these mountain 
railroads are ! Without 
them, few would venture 
here ; and all the pa- 
geantry of Nature in 
these upper regions modern alpine climbing. 




i6 



SWITZERLAND 



would unfold itself through the revolving years with scarce an 

eye to note its beauty or voice to tell its glories to the world. 

In startling contrast to my first ascent to the place, now 

many years ago, 
it was by this 
luxurious mode 
of travel that I 
recently ap- 
proached the 
little village 
known as Miir- 
ren. It is the 
loftiest hamlet 
in all Switzer- 
land, consist- 
ing of a cluster 
of S\\'iss cot- 
tages, whose 

MURREN. 

roofs, heavily 
freighted with protecting stones, project beyond the walls like 
broad-brimmed hats. So singular is the appearance of a 
village at this dizzy height, that one is tempted to believe 
that the houses had been blown up from the valley by 
some reckless blast, and dropped at random on the lonely 
tableland. 

Yet here, to our astonishment, we find hotels, which some- 
how year by year outlive the horrors of the Alpine winter, 
and in the summer season welcome their hundreds of adven- 
turous guests. But, after all, where in Switzerland is there 
not a hotel? Fast as the arteries of travel are extended, on 
every prominent point commanding a fine view is planted 
a hotel, a forerunner of the world of travel. This is, in fact, 
one of the charms of Switzerland. The Andes and Himalayas 
may possess higher peaks and grander glaciers; but there one 




SWITZERLAND 



J7 



cannot (as among the Alps) ride all day long on perfect roads, 
and in the evening sit down to a well-cooked dinner, hear 
music on a broad veranda, consult the latest newspapers, and 
sleep in a comfortable bed. 

Even before the advent of the railroad, I was a thousand- 
fold repaid for climbing up to Miirren ; for here so closely 
do the Alpine Titans press on every side, that if Mohammed 
had ever found his way hither, he might well have believed 
that the mountains were coming to him, and not he to the 
mountains. 

The surrounding summits reveal to the astonished sight 
heights, lengths, and depths which overwhelm one with sub- 
limity. What seemed an hour ago mere glistening mounds 
are now transformed by the grandeur of this Olympian eleva- 
tion into vast 
snowfi elds, miles 
in length, or 
into seas of ice, 
which pour 
down through 
the valleys in 
slow-moving 
floods. In early 
summer, too, 
one hears at 
frequent inter- 
vals the roar of 
some tremen- 
dous avalanche 
on the great 




A HOTEL AT MURREN. 



mountams oppo- 
site, from which the tourist is separated only by a yawning gulf. 
Never shall I forget the morning when I stood here wait- 
ing for the sunrise view. There was none of that crowd of jab- 



1 8 SWITZERLAND 

bering tourists who often profane the summit of the Rigi, and 
seem to measure the extent of their pleasure by the noise they 
make. I was well-nigh alone. When I emerged from the 
hotel, a purple line was visible in the east, but clouds and 
mists half vx'iled the mountains from my sight. At length, 
however, noiselessly but steadily, a hidden hand seemed 
to draw back the misty curtain of the night. Slowly the 
giant forms molded themselves from darkness into light, 
until their foreheads first, and then each fold and outline 
of their dazzling shapes, stood forth in bold relief against the 
sk}'. The glaciers sparkled with the first bright beams like 
jeweled highways of the gods, — ^ till, finally, as the sun's 
disk came fairly into view, the whole vast range glowed like a 
wall of tinted porcelain. It seemed as if a thousand sacred 
fires had been kindled on these mountain altars, in glad 
response to the triumphant greeting of the god of da3^ 

On descending from Miirren, the tourist is attracted to 
another famous object, only a few miles from Interlaken, — 
the crlacicr of Grindelwald. 




A VIEW FROM MURREN. 



SWITZERLAND 



21 










^^ 



^'^ 



4,'i3^,'/_^ 



It was while visiting this sea of ice that my guide suddenly 
turned and asked me with a smile, " Are you a clergyman? " 

I answered that I could not claim that flattering distinc- 
tion, but begged to know the reason of his question. 
"Because," he said, "clergymen seem to be unlucky in 
Grindelwald ; all 
the accidents 
that take place 
here somehow 
happen to 
them. " 

As we were 
at that moment 
just about to 
venture on the 
ice, I naturally 
recalled Charles 
Lamb's reply 
when he was re- 
quested to say 
grace at dinner. 
"What," he 

exclaimed, "are there no clergymen present? Then I will 
say, the Lord be thanked! " 

A moment or two later we entered the well-known cavern 
in this glacier — a strange and chilling passageway, two hun- 
dred feet in length, cut in the solid ice, whose gleaming walls 
and roof seemed to be made of polished silver. 

As I was picking my way safely, though shiveringly, 
through this huge refrigerator, I asked my guide to tell me about 
one of the clerical misfortunes which had made him suspicious 
of gentlemen of the cloth. He turned and looked at me 
curiously. "You know, of course, the fate of our pastor, 
M. Mouron?" he exclaimed. I confessed my ignorance. 



A GLACIER. 



22 



SWITZERLAND 




A CHILLING PASSAGEWAY. 



"Then come with mc," 
he said. Accordingly, 
emerging from the cavern, 
we cHmbed for nearly an 
hour over great blocks of 
ice, until we came to a pro- 
found abyss. Suspended 
from the frozen parapet a 
mass of icicles pointed mys- 
teriously down like ghostly 
fingers. Then all was dark. 
" It was by falling down 
this," said the guide, 
"that the pastor of 
Grindelwald lost his life. 
He was seeking one day to 

ascertain its depth by casting stones into its cavernous maw 

and counting till he heard the sound of their arrival at the 

bottom of the 

abyss. Once, in 

his eagerness, 

he placed his 

staff against the 

opposite edge, 

leaned over and 

listened. Sud- 
denly the ice 

gave way, and 

he fell licad- 

1 o n g into the 

crevasse. His 

g u i d e r a n 

breathless to 

the \'illa<)"e and 




GHOSTLY FINGERS. 



SWITZERLAND 



23 



informed the people of their loss. But, to his horror, he 
found that he himself was looked upon with suspicion. In 
fact, some went so far as to say that he must have murdered 
their pastor, and robbed him of his watch and purse. 

''The guides of Grindelwald, however, who felt them- 
selves insulted at this accusation, united and agreed that one 
of their number (chosen by lot) should, at the peril of his life, 
descend into this crevasse to establish the innocence of the 




accused. The lot was drawn by 
one of the bravest of them all, a 
man named Bergenen. The whole 
village assembled on the flood of 

ice to witness the result of the search. After partaking of 
the sacrament, Bergenen fastened a rope around his waist 
and a lantern to his neck. In one hand he took a bell. 
In the other he grasped his iron-pointed staff to keep him- 
self from the sharp edges. Four men then carefully lowered 
him down. Twice, on the point of suffocation, he rang the 



24 



SWITZERLAND 



bell and \\^ a s 
drawn up. Fi- 
nally a heavier 
wcit^ht was felt 
upon the rope, 
and Bergen en re- 
appeared, bring- 
ing the body 
of the pastor 
from a depth of 
seven hundred 
and fifty feet. 
A mighty shout 
went up from the guides and populace as well. The man 
was innocent. Both watch and purse were found upon the 
corpse ! " 

As we returned from Grindelwald to Interlaken, we often 
paused to note the peasants toiling in the fields. So far as their 
appearance was concerned, we might have supposed them labor- 
ers on a Vermont farm ; but their low carts were quite unlike 




IlAY-iM.\l<I.\G. 



..^♦'fl 




« 4U A, , 



SWITZERLAND 



25 



our country hayracks; and the appearance of a single ox, 
harnessed with ropes around his horns, presented an amusing 
contrast to the sturdy beasts which, bound together by the 
yoke, drag to our barns their loads of fragrant hay. Women, 
of course, were working with the men; but female laborers 
in Switzerland are not in the majority. In many instances 
the ratio is but 
one to three. 

These peas- 
ants look up 
curiously as we 
drive along, 
and no doubt 
think that we 
are favored be- 
ings, to whom 
our luxuries 
give perfect 
happiness. And 
yet the very 
tourists whom 
they thus envy 
may, in a single 

hour, endure more misery and heartache than they in their 
simplicity and moderate poverty will ever know. Among 
these people are not found the framers of those hopeless 
questions: "Is life worth living?" and "Does death end 
all?" The real destroyers of life's happiness are not a 
lowly home and manual labor. They are the constant worri- 
ments and cares of artificial life, — satiety of pleasures, the 
overwork of mental powers, and the disenchantment of sat- 
isfied desires. 

Filled with such thoughts, as we beheld the humble but 
well-kept and ever picturesque dwellings of the farmers of this 




A SWISS FARM -HOUSE. 



26 



SWITZERLAND 



valley, I called to mind, as a consoling antidote to one's first 
natural sympathy with poverty, the story of the sultan who, 
despite all his wealth and power, was always melancholy. 
He had been told by his physician that, if he would be cured 
of all his real or fancied ailments, he must exchange shirts 

with the first 
perfectly happy 
man he could 
find. Out went 
his officers in 
search of such 
a person. 

The hunt 
was long and 
arduous, but 
finally the for- 
tunate being 
was found. 
When he was 
brought to the 
sultan, how- 
ever, it was dis- 
covered, alas! that this perfectly happy individual was not the 
possessor of a shirt. 

From Interlaken, every tourist makes a short excursion 
to one of the best known of Alpine waterfalls, — the Giessbach. 
Set in a glorious framework of dark trees, it leaves the cliff, 
one thousand feet above, and in a series of cascades leaps 
downward to the lake. If this descending torrent were 
endowed with consciousness, I fancy it would be as wretched 
in its present state as a captive lion in a cage, continually 
stared at by a curious multitude. For never was a cascade 
so completely robbed of liberty and privacy as this. A path- 
way crosses it repeatedly by means of bridges, and seems to 




THE GIESSBACH. 



SWITZERLAND 



29 



bind it to the mountain as with a winding chain. Behind it 
are numerous galleries where visitors may view it from the 
rear. Arbors and seats are also placed on either side ; and thus, 
through every hour of the day, people to right of it, people 
to left of it, people in rear of it, people in front of it, look 
on and wonder. Even at night it has but little rest ; for hardly 
have the shadows shrouded it, when it is torn from its obscurity 
by torches, calcium lights, and fireworks, which all along 
its course reveal it to the admiring crowd in a kaleidoscope 
of colors. 

Far happier, therefore, seems another waterfall of Switzer- 
land, — the Reichembach ; for this is left comparatively undis- 
turbed within 
its mountain 
solitude. Far 
o ff , upon a 
mountain crest, 
a blue lake, set 
like a sapphire 
amid surround- 
ing glaciers, 
serves as a cra- 
dle for this new- 
b o r n river. 
Thence it 
emerges, tim- 
idly at first, to 
make its way 
down to the 

outer world. With each descent, however, it gains fresh im- 
petus and courage. Return is now impossible. The die is 
cast. Its fate is now decided. We almost wish that we could 
check its course amid this beautiful environment. It will not 
find a sweeter or a safer place. Too soon it will be forced to 




THE REICHENBACH. 



30 



SWITZERLAND 




THE PROMENADE. 



bear great bur- 
dens, turn count- 
less wheels, and 
minister to thou- 
sands. Then, at 
the last, will 
come old Ocean's 
cold and passion- 
less embrace, in 
which all its in- 
dividuality will 
disappear. 
Another portal to this land of mountains, rivaling Inter- 
laken in attractiveness, is Lucerne, reclining peacefully beside 
its noble lake. I do not know a resting-place in Switzerland 
which is in all respects so satisfying as this. 

Its hotels are among the finest in the world; the town 
itself is pretty and attractive; and in the foreground is a 
panorama too varied to become monotonous, too beautiful 
ever to lose its charm. Mount Pilate and the Rigi guard 
Lucerne like sentinels, the one on the east, the other on the 
west, like halting- _^s^3^^^^^^b«^ places for the morn- 
ing and the ^^^^ ^^^i^^ evening stars. 
Direct- j^^^' ^^^^ ly oppo- 
site, yl«iOr»^ " ^W upon 




THE QUAY, LUCERNE 



SWITZERLAND 



31 



the southern boundary of the lake, miles upon miles of 
snow-capped mountains rise against the sky, as if to indicate 
the limit of the world. 

One of the sentinels of Lucerne, as I have said, is Mount 
Pilate. Toward this the faces of all tourists turn, as to a 
huge barom- ____—- eter ; for by its 

cap ^.^"-'^ of 




clouds Pilate foretells the 
weather which excursionists 
must look for. There is 
hardly need to recall the 
popular derivation of the 
mountain's name. It was in olden times believed that Pon- 
tius Pilate, in his wanderings through the world, impelled at 
last by horror and remorse, committed suicide upon its 
summit. On this account the mountain was considered 
haunted. At one time the town authorities even forbade 
people to ascend it on a Friday! But now there is a hotel 
on the top, and every day in the week, Friday included, a 
railway train climbs resolutely to the summit, enabling 
thousands to enjoy every summer a view scarcely to be sur- 
passed in grandeur or extent at any point among the Alps. 
No allusion to Lucerne would be complete without reference 



12 



SWITZERLAND 



to that noble product of Thorwaldsen's genius, which, in 
more respects than one, is the Hon of the place. It is dif- 
ficult to imagine a more appropriate memorial than this, of the 
fidelity and valor exhibited one hundred years ago by the 
Swiss guard, who in defense of Louis XVI laid down their 



R e \' o 1 u - 
famous 



lives at the opening of the French 
tion. No view does justice to this 
statue. Within a 
monstrous niche. 
which has been hol- 
lowed out of a per- 
pendicular cliff, re- 
clines, as in some 
mountain cave, the 
prostrate figure of a 
lion, thirty feet in 
length. It is evident 
that the animal has 
received a mortal 
wound. The handle 
of a spear protrudes 
from his side. Yet 
even in the agony of 
death he guards the 
Bourbon shield and 
lily, which he has 
given his life to de- 
fend. One paw pro- 
t e c t s them; his 
drooping head caresses them, and gives to them a 
mute farewell. Beneath the figure, chiseled in the 
rock, are the names of the ofificcrs murdered by the mob; 
while above is the brief but eloquent inscription: "To the 
fidelity and bravery of the Swiss." In the whole world I 
do not know of a monument more simple yet impressive. 




THE ALIl.Nt KLh;\AI 
ON MOUNT PILATE, 



SWITZERLAND 



33 



One of the 
greatest pleas- 
ures of the tourist 
in Lucerne is to 
sail out, as he 
may do at almost 
any hour of the 
day, upon its 
lovely lake. 
This, in respect 
to scenery, sur- 
passes all its 
Alpine rivals. 
Twenty- three 
miles in length, 
it has the form 

of a gigantic cross, each arm of which (when looked upon 
glow of sunset from a neighboring height) seems like a 




THE LION OF LUCHKNE. 



in the 
plain 




of gold and lapis-lazuli 
set in a frame-work of ma- 
jestic mountains. No tour 



* 



34 



SWITZERLAND 



in Switzerland 
is complete 
without a sail 
upon this fair 
expanse of 
water. Hence 
more than half 
a million trav- 
elers cross it 
every year dur- 
ing the summer 
months alone, 

and tiny steamers are continually visible, cutting their furrows 
on its smooth, transparent surface, as sharply as a diamond 
marks a pane of glass. 

Moreover, when the boat glides inward toward the shore, 
one sees that other elements of beauty are not wanting here. 
Pretty chalets with overhanging roofs ; rich pastures, orchards, 
and gardens, — all these, with numerous villages, succeed each 
other here for _-^— - — -rzr^- -—-.-_ miles, between 

and the 




MAKING A LANDING. 





MONTREUX. 



SWITZERLAND 



37 



bold cliffs that rise toward Heaven. Nor is this all. The 
villages possess a history, since these romantic shores were 
formerly the stage on which Swiss patriots performed those 
thrilling scenes immortahzed by Schiller in his drama of 
"William Tell." 

In fact, at one point half concealed among the trees is the 
well-known structure, called Tell's Chapel. It stands upon 
the spot where, it is said, the hero, springing from the ty- 
rant's boat, escaped the 

clutches of the Austrian /" ^^^ '^^ 

governor. As is well 
known, doubts have been 
cast on even the existence 
of this national chieftain; 
and yet it is beyond per- 
adventure that a chapel 
was erected here to his 
memory as early as the 
fifteenth century, and only 
eleven years ago this struc- 
ture was restored at gov- 
ernment expense. More- 
over, once a year at least, 
the people of the neigh- 
boring cantons gather here 

in great numbers to celebrate a festival which has been held 
by their ancestors for centuries. 

The little building is certainly well calculated to awaken 
patriotism. Appropriate frescoes, representing exploits as- 
cribed to William Tell, adorn the Avails; while opposite the 
doorway is an altar at which religious services are held. How 
solemn and impressive must the ceremony be, when religious 
rites are performed in such a historic and picturesque locality 
in the presence of a reverent multitude ! At such a time this 




ALTAR IN TELL S CHAl'KL. 



38 



SWITZERLAND 



tiny shrine may be considered part of the subHme cathedral 
of the mountains, whose columns are majestic trees, whose 
stained glass is autumnal foliage, whose anthems are the songs 





m 




LAKE LUCERNE BY NIGHT. 



of birds, whose requiems are the moaning of the pines, and 
whose grand roof is the stupendous arch of the unmeasured 
sky, beneath which the snow-clad mountains rise like jeweled 
altars, lighted at night, as if with lofty tapers, by the glitter- 
ing stars. 

But to appreciate the beauty of this sheet of water, one 
should behold it when its surface is unruffled by a breeze. En- 
amoured of their own beauty, the mountains then look down 
into the lake as into an incomparable mirror. It is an invert- 
ed world. The water is as transparent as the sky. The very 
breezes hold their breath, lest they should mar the exquisite 
reflection. The neighboring peaks display their rugged fea- 
tures in this limpid Hood, as if unconscious of the wrinkles 
which betray their age. The pine trees stand so motionless 
upon the shore that they appear like slender ferns. Instinc- 



SWITZERLAND 



39 



tively we call to mind those graceful lines, supposed to be ad- 
dressed by such a lake to an adjoining mountain: 

" I lie forever at thy feet, 
Dear hill with lofty crown; 
My waters smile thy crags to greet, 
As they look proudly down. 

The odor of thy wind-tossed pines 

Is message sweet to me; 
It makes me dimple with delight, 

Because it comes from thee. 

Thou, lofty, grand, above the world; 

Its lowly servant, I; 
Yet see, within my sunny depths 

Is smiling thy blue sky. 






FLUELEN, ON LAKE LUCERNE. 

Thou art so far, and yet how near! 

For though we are apart, 
I make myself a mirror clear, 

And hold thee in my heart." 

Above this lake itself extends for miles the famous Axen- 
strasse, — a splendid specimen of engineering skill, cut in the 



40 



SWITZERLAND 



solid rock, hun- 
dreds of feet 
above the 
waves. Yet this 
is no excep- 
tional thing in 
S A\' i t z e r 1 a n d , 
and nothing 
stamps itself 
more forcibly 
upon the tour- 
ist's mind with- 
in this region of 
the Alps than 
man's trium- 
phant victory 
over obstacles, 
in the formation of its roads. Despite their great cost of 
construction these prove profitable investments; for the better 
the roads, the more people will travel over them. Referring 
to them, some one has prettily said, that by such means the 




^ «^.w^;s- -, 



THE AXENSTRASSE. 




IN THE ENGAUINE. 



SWITZERLAND 



41 



Swiss transform 
the silver of 
their mountain 
peaks into five 
franc pieces, 
and change the 
golden glow of 
their sunrises 
and sunsets into 
napoleons. 

How great 
the difference 
between the 
Switzerland of 
to-day and that 
of fifty years 
ago ! Where formerly the 
picked their precarious way 




MOUNTAIN GALLERIES. 




ENGINEERING SKILL. 



solitary peasant and his mule 
through mud or snow, luxurious 
landaus now roll easily 
along, on thoroughfares 
of rock, without a stone 
or obstruction of any 
kind to mar their sur- 
faces. Nor is there dan- 
ger of disaster. Walled 
in by massive parapets, 
an accident is here im- 
possible ; and in these 
mighty galleries, hewn 
from the mountain side 
itself, the traveler is per- 
fectly secure, although 
an avalanche may fall or 
cyclones rage above him. 



42 



SWITZERLAND 



The Axcnstrasse may be said to form a part of that mag- 
nificent route from Switzerland to Italy, known as the St. 
Gotthard. It is, in truth, the king of Alpin-e roads; resem- 
bling a mighty chain which man, the victor, has imposed 
upon the vanquished Alps, — one end sunk deep in the Italian 
Lakes, the other guarded by the Lion of Lucerne, — and all 
the intervening links kept burnished brightly by the hands of 
trade. True, within the last few years, the carriage-road 
across the St. Gotthard has been comparatively neglected, 

since the longest 
tunnel in the 
world has to a 
great extent re- 
placed it. Tran- 
quil enough this 
tunnel frequently 
appears, but I 
have seen it when 
great clouds of 
smoke were pour- 
ing out of its 
huge throat, as 
from the crater 
of a great vol- 
cano. A strong 
wind blowing from the south was then, no doubt, clearing 
this subterranean flue; and I was glad that I had not to 
breathe its stifling atmosphere, but, on the contrary, seated 
in a carriage, could lose no portion of the glorious scenery, 
while drinking in great draughts of the pure mountain air. 

Still, whether we travel by the railroad of the St. Gotthard 
or not, we must not underrate its usefulness, nor belittle the 
great engineering triumphs here displayed. Its length, too, 
amazes one, for not only is the principal tunnel nine and a half 




ST. GOTTHARD TUNNEL. 



SWITZERLAND 



45 



miles long, but there are fifty-five others on the line, the 
total length of which, cut inch by inch out of the solid granite, 
is more than twenty-five miles. When one drives over the 
mountain by the carriage-road, hour after hour, bewildered by 
its cliffs and gorges, it seems impossible that the engineer's 
calculations could have been made so perfectly as to enable 
labor on the tunnel to be carried on from both ends of it at 
the same time. Yet all was planned so well that, on the 
28th of February, 1880, the Italian workmen and the Swiss 
both met at the designated spot, six thousand feet below the 
summit, and there pierced the last thin barrier that remained 
between the north and south. 

The number of railroad bridges on the St. Gotthard aston- 
ished me. Their name is legion. Across them long trains 
make their way among the clouds like monster centipedes, 
creeping along the mountain-sides, or over lofty viaducts. 

Here man's triumph over nature is complete. How puny 
seems at first his strength when measured with the wind and 




46 



SWITZERLAND 






avalanche! But 
mind has proved 
superior to mat- 
ter. The ax was 
made, and at its 
sturdy stroke 
the forest yield- 
ed up its tribute 
for the construc- 
tion of this path- 
way. The cav- 
erns of the earth 
were also forced 
to surrender the 
iron treasured 
there for ages, 
and rails were made, along whose glittering lines a crowded 
train now glides as smoothly as a boat upon the waves. 
And yet these awful cliffs still scowl so savagely on eitlier 




THE ST. GOTTHARD RAILWAY. 




SWITZERLAND 



47 



side, that the 
steel rail, which 
rests upon their 
shelves of rock, 
seems often like 
a thread of fate, 
by which a thou- 
sand lives are 
held suspended 
over the abyss. 

The volume 
of freight trans- 
ported along this 
route must be 
enormous. But 
why should tour- 
ists (unless compelled by lack of time) consent to be carried 
through this scenery like a bale of goods, in darkness rather 
than in daylight? The best way still to cross the Alps is 




THE DEVIL S BRIDGE. 




48 



SWITZERLAND 



to cross them, not to burrow through them. I should cer- 
tainly advise the traveler to drive from Lake Lucerne over the 
St. Gotthard Pass, and then to take the train, if he desires to 
do so, on the Italian side, as it emerges from the tunnel. 
Thence, in a few brief hours one can embark upon Lake 
Como, or see the sunset gild the statue-laden spires of Milan's 
cathedral. 

The finest scenery on the carriage-road of the St. Gott- 
hard is in a wild ravine, through which the river Reuss 
rushes madly. Spanning the torrent in a single arch, is what 
is popularly called " The Devil's Bridge." Perhaps I should 
say bridges, for there are surely two of them, and though only 
the smaller one is attributed to his Satanic Majesty, it is prob- 
ably by the newer, safer, and more orthodox one that Satan 
nowadays, like a prudent devil, prefers to cross. The legend 
of this celebrated bridge is extraordinary. 

Some centuries ago, the mayor of the canton was one day 
in despair because the mountain torrent had swept off every 
bridge he had constructed 
here. In his 




DKIVING OVER THE ALPS. 



-^^'^ 



SWITZERLAND 



49 



vexation he was rash enough to use 
the name of the Devil, as some people 
will. Hardly had he uttered the word, 
when his door- bell rang, and his servant 
brought him a card, on which he read 
the words, " Monsieur Satan." 

"Show him in," said the mayor. 
A gentleman in black made his appear- 
ance, and seated himself in an armchair. 
The mayor placed his boots upon the 
fender; the Devil rested his upon the 
burning coals. The subject of the 
bridge was broached, and the mayor 
finally offered the Devil any sum that 
the canton could raise, if he would build 
them a bridge which would last one 
hundred years. "Bah!" said Satan, 
" What need have I of money? " And 

t a k i n e 





PEASANT GIRL. 




^: 



.IF THE MANY, 



with his fin- 
gers a red- 
hot coal from 
the fire, he offered it to his com- 
panion. The mayor drew back 
aghast. ' ' Don't be afraid, ' ' said 
Satan ; and putting the coal in 
the mayor's hand, it instantly 
became a lump of gold. ' ' Take 
it back, ' ' said the mayor sadly ; 
"we are not talking now of 
politics!" "You see," said the 
Devil, Avith a smile, "my price 
must be something else than 
money. If I build this bridge, 



50 



SWITZERLAND 



I demand that the first li\'ing being that passes over it shall 
be mine." "Agreed!" said the mayor. The contract was 
soon signed. " Aurevoir! " said the Devil. " Au plaisir! 
said the mayor; and Satan went his way. 

Early next morning the mayor himself hurried to the spot, 
eager to see if Satan had fulfilled his contract. The bridge 
was completed, and there sat Satan, swinging his legs over 
the stream and waiting for his promised soul. "What," 
he exclaimed, as he espied the mayor, "do you unselfishly 
resign j'(?//r soul to me? " " Not much," replied the mayor, 

proceeding to 
untie a bag which 
he had brought. 
"What 's that?" 
cried Satan. 
There was a wild 
yell, and instant- 
ly a big black 
cat, with a tin 
pan tied to its 
tail, rushed over 
the bridge as if 
ten thousand dogs were after it. " There is your ' first living 
being,'" cried the mayor. "Catch him!" Satan was 
furious, but acknowledged that he had been outwitted and 
retired, — contenting himself with making the air of the ravine 
quite sulphurous with his remarks about home ! 

Although the St. Gotthard may be the grandest of all 
Alpine passes, the most historic of them is that of Mount St. 
Bernard. Some years ago, on the last day of October, I left 
the village of Martigny, which is the starting-point for the 
ascent, and, several hours later, as night came creeping up the 
Alps, found myself uj^on the famous pass, at a place already 
higher than our own Mt. Washington, but still two thousand 




HOSPICE ST. lIliKNARD AND LAKE. 



SWITZERLAND 



53 



feet below my destination, — the monastery. Through vari- 
ous causes our party had been delayed, and now with the ap- 
proach of night a snow-storm swept our path with fearful vio- 
lence. Those who have never seen a genuine Alpine storm 
can hardly comprehend its reckless fury. The light snow was 




whirled and scattered, 
like an ocean of spray, 
over all things. A thou- 
sand needles of ice 
seemed to pierce our 
skin. Drifts sprang up 
in our path, as if by 
magic. The winds 
howled like unchained 

demons through the jagged gorges, and a horrible feeling 
of isolation made our hearts falter with a sickening sense 
of helplessness. As mine was an October experience, I 
shudder to think of what a genuine winter's storm must 
be. For, as it was, we were all speedily numb with cold. 



54 



SWITZERLAND 



blinded by the whirling snow, and deafened by the roaring 
wind, which sometimes drowned our loudest shouts to one 
another. 

Up and still up we rode, our poor mules plunging through 
the snow, our fingers mechanically holding the reins, which 
felt like icicles within our grasp, our guides rubbing their well- 
nigh frozen hands, but, fortunately — most fortunately — never 
becoming confused as to the way. 

At length I saw, or thought I saw, through the blinding 
snow, one of a group of buildings. I chanced to be the fore- 
most in our file of snow-bound travelers, and shouting, "Here 
it is at last," I hastened toward the structure. No light was 
visible. No voice responded to my call for help. I pounded 
on the door and called again. No answer came; but at that 




A SWISS OSSUARY. 



moment I felt my arm grasped roughly by my guide. "In 
Heaven's name, " he said, "do not jest on such a night as 
this." 



SWITZERLAND 



55 



"Jest!" I rejoined, with chattering teeth, "I have no wish 
to jest — -I am freezing. Where is the boasted hospitaHty 
of your lazy monks? Shout! Wake them up!" 

" They will 
not Avake, ' ' re- 
plied the guide. 
"Why not?" 
I cried ; and 
beating the 
door again, I 
called at the 
top of my voice: 
"Au secours! 
Reveillez-vous ! 
Are you all dead 
in here?" 

"Yes," re- 
plied the guide. 

It was now 
my turn to stare 

at him. "What do you mean?" I faltered. "What — what 
does this house contain? " " Corpses," was the reply. 

It was clear to me in a moment. I had mistaken the dead- 
house for the house of shelter! In fancy I could see the 
ghastly spectacle within, where bones of travelers whiten on 
through centuries in an atmosphere whose purity defies decay. 

But, almost simultaneously with his other words, I heard 
my guide exclaim : "If you too would not join their number, 
en avant, en avant, vite, vitef' Then, seizing the bridle of 
my mule, he urged me toward the monastery. A few mo- 
ments more and we arrived within its sheltering walls. One 
of the brothers helped me to dismount, and led me up the 
stone steps of the Hospice. And then, how blessed was our 
reception! How warm the fire blazing on the ample hearth! 




A COKRIDOR IN THE HOSPICE. 



56 



SWITZERLAND 




DOGS OF ST. BERNARD. 



How good the hot soiq) 
and wine instantly brought 
us by the kind friars ! How 
comforting the thought of 
our surroundings, as the 
baffled storm beat against 
the frost - covered win- 
dows, and seemed to shriek 
with rage at being cheated 
of its victims! 

Never, while memory 
lasts, shall I cease to re- 
member with love and 
gratitude those noble- 
hearted brothers of the 
St. Bernard. 
Next morning the storm had cleared away; yet even in 

pleasant weather it is difficult to imagine anything more dreary 

than the situation of this monastery, locked thus in sno\\- and 

ice, and sentineled by savage peaks, eight thousand feet 

above the sea. 

Even the pond 

adjoining it is 

gloomy from its 

contrast to all 

other lakes. Its 

waters are too 

cold for a n }' 

kind of fish, and 

therefore fail to 

attract hither 

anv kind of bird. 

Animal life ha- 

itUien oil in mai^- brothers of st. uernard. 




SWITZERLAND 



5; 



•\ 



land and 
of them 
the situ- 
broken 




ing the ascent. Man and the dog alone have reached the 
summit. 

It was with admiration that I looked upon the self-sacrifi- 
cing heroes who reside here. What praise can be too high for 
these devoted men, who say farewell to parents j a n d t o 
friends, and leave the smiling vales of Switzer 
Italy to live upon this glacial height? Few 
can endure the hardship and exposure of 
ation longer than eight years, and then, with 
health, they return (perhaps to die) 
to the milder climate of the valleys. 
During the long winter which binds 
them here with icy chains for 
nine months of the year, they 
give themselves to the noble 
work of rescuing, often amid 
terrible exposure, those who 
are then obliged to cross the 
pass. In this they are aided 
by their famous dogs, which, 
like themselves, shrink from no 
danger, and in their courage 
and intelligence rival the masters 
they so bravely serve. The travel- 
ers whom they receive in winter 
are not the rich, whose heavy purses 
might recompense them for their 
toil. They are mostly humble peasants, unable to givQ more 
compensation than the outpouring of a grateful heart. But 
there will come a day when these brave men will have their 
full reward ; when He, who with unerring wisdom weighs 
all motives and all deeds, will say to them: "Inasmuch as 
ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, 
ye have done it unto Me." 



^K*' 
^ 



OLD CITY GATE, BASLE. 



58 



SWITZERLAND 



One of the most attractive of all the pleasure resorts in 
Switzerland is the lovely Vale of Chamonix. The first view 
one obtains of it, in coming over the mountains from Martigny, 
is superb. Three monstrous glaciers, creeping out from their 




icy lairs, lie beneath ice-fringed but- 
tresses of snow, like glittering serpents 
watching for a favorable chance to 
seize and swallow their prey. Looking 
across the valley at them, it is true, they 
seem quite harmless; but in reality, such 
glaciers are the mighty wedges which have 
for ages carved these mountains into shape, and are 
still keeping them apart in solitary grandeur. What from a 
distance seems a little bank of snow is probably a wall of ice, 
one hundred feet in height. What look like wrinkles are 
crevasses of an unknown depth ; and the seeming puff of smoke 
which one at times discerns upon them, is really a tremendous 



SWITZERLAND 



6i 




avalanche of snow and ice. 
Of the three glaciers which 
descend into the Vale of 
Chamonix, the one most 
frequently visited by tourists 
is the Mer de Glace. It is 
well called the "Sea of Ice," 
for its irregular surface looks 
precisely like a mass of toss- 
ing waves which have been 
crystallized when in their 
wildest agitation. To right 
and left, the ice is partially 
concealed by rocks and 
earth, which have been 
ground off from the adjacent 

mountain-sides, or which have fallen there, as the result of 

avalanches. Sometimes huge boulders are discernible, tossed 

here and there like nut-shells, 

the rocky debris of ages. 
What is there more 

su 



if 




APPALLING PRECIPICES. 




ZURICH, WITH DISTANT ALPS. 



62 



SWITZERLAND 



power than a frozen cataract like this? Apparently as cold 
and motionless as death, it nevertheless is moving downward 
with a slow, resistless march, whose progress can be accurately- 
traced from 
day to day; 
so accurately, 
indeed, that 
objects lost 
to-day in one 
of these cre- 
vasses mav be 




FROZEN CATARACTS. 



confidently 
looked for at 
the glacier's 
terminus after 
a certain num- 
ber of years. 
Forever nour- 
ished on the 
heights, for- 
ever wasting in the valleys, these glaciers are the moving 
mysteries of the upper world ; vast, irresistible, congealed pro- 
cessions, — the frozen reservoirs of rivers that glide at last 
from their reluctant arms in a mad haste to reach the sea. 

" Perennial snow, perennial stream, 
Perennial motion, all things seem; 
Nor time, nor space will ever show 
The world that was an hour ago." 

When we examine any portion of a glacier's surface, 
wc find abundant evidence of its motion. It has been forced 



SWITZERLAND 



63 




CROSSING A GLACIER. 



into a million 

strange, distort- 
ed shapes, many 

of which are 

larger than the 

grandest cathe- 
drals man has 

ever framed. 

Between them 

are vast chasms 

of unknown 

depth. As it 

descends thus, 

inch by inch, 

obedient to the 

pressure from 

above, it flings its frigid waves to the right and left, close to 

the orchards and the homes of man. It is the ghastly syn- 
onym of death 
in life ; for here 
a man may swing 
the scythe or 
gather flowers, 
while a hundred 
yards away his 
brother may be 
perishing in a 
crevasse ! 

To really 
understand a 
glacier one must 
venture out 
upon its icy 
flood. One day 




PERILOUS SEAT 



64 



SWITZERLAND 



mained 
over- 



while on the Mer de Glace, I was (as usual in such expeditions) 
preceded and followed by a guide, to both of whom I was 
attached by a stout rope. On that occasion one thing im- 
pressed me greatly. It was a strange sound, called by the 
guides "brullcn," or growling, which is in reality the mys- 
terious moaning of the glacier, caused by the rending asunder 
of huge blocks of ice in its slow, grinding descent. 

At times it seemed to me impossible to proceed, but the 
experienced guide who led the way laughed at my fears; and 
finally, to increase my confidence, actually entered one of the 
appalling caverns of the glacier, which like the jaw\s of some 
huge polar bear, seemed capable of closing with dire conse- 
quences. For a few minutes he re- 
seated beneath a mass of 
hanging ice, apparent- 
ly as calm as I was 
apprehensive for 
his safety. No 
accident oc- 
curred, and 
yet my fears 
were not un- 
founded. For 
though there 
is a fascination 
in thus ventur- 
ing beneath 
the fro7xn bil- 
lows of a glac- 
ier, there may 
be treachery in 
its siren lo\'e- 
liness. Huge 
blocks of ice 




IKRESISTIHLE 

CONGEALED 

PROCESSIONS 



SWITZERLAND 



67 




MONT BLANC FROM CHAMONIX. 



frequently fall 
without the 
slightest warn- 
ing, and many a 
reckless tourist 
has thus been 
killed, or per- 
haps maimed for 
Hfe. 

On entering 
the little town 
of Chamonix, 
the tourist sees 
in front of one 
of the hotels a 
group in bronze 
that rivets his attention and awakens thought. It represents 
the famous guide, Balmat, who first ascended J\Iont Blanc in 
1786, enthusiastically pointing out the path of victory to the 

Swiss scientist, De Saussure, who 
had for years been offering a re- 
ward to an}^ one who should dis- 
cover a way to reach the summit. 
The face of the brave con- 
queror of Mont Blanc and that 
of the distinguished scholar 
are both turned toward 
the monarch of the Alps. 
Instinctively the traveler 
also looks in that direc- 
tion. 

It is a memorable 
moment when one gazes 
for the first time upon 




DE SAUSSURE AND BALMAT. 



68 



SWITZERLAND 



Mont Blanc. We understand at once the reason for its 
being called preeminently the "White Alountain." The 
title was bestowed upon it because of the magnificent snow- 
white mantle which it wears, at a height of almost sixteen 
thousand feet. Probably no other mountain in the world 
has so towered up on the horizon of our imaginations. Long 
before we have actually seen it, we have repeated Byron's 

words : 

" Mount Blanc is the monarch of mountains; 
They crowned him long ago, 
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, 
With a diadem of snow." 

At once a strong desire seizes us to explore those bound- 
less fields of crystal clearness, and yet we shrink from all the 
toil and danger thus involved. But, suddenly, as our gaze 
returns to earth, we find a means of making the ascent with- 
out fatigue — the telescope! 

The placard suspended from it tells us that some tourists 
are actually struggling toward the summit. The chances are 
that they will return in safety ; for the ascent of Mont Blanc, 
which Balmat made with so much difificulty, has now been 
reduced to a system. Yet after all, this Alpine climbing 
is a dangerous business. It is pathetic, for example, to 




A MOINIAIN MALSOLEL'.M. 



SWITZERLAND 



69 



recall the fate of poor Balmat himself. Despite his long 
experience, even he lost his life at last by falling over a preci- 
pice. Only his statue is in Chamonix; his body lies in an 
immense abyss, 
four hundred 
feet in depth, 
where falling 
masses of rock 
and ice are con- 
stantly increas- 
ing his vast 
mausoleum, and 
the continual 
thunder of the 
avalanche seems 
like the moun- 
tain's exulta- 
tion at its con- 
queror's de- 
struction. 

Availing ourselves of the telescope, we watch with ease 
and comfort the actual climbers on Mont Blanc. By this 
time they have bound themselves together with a rope, which 
in positions of peril is the first requisite of safety. For 
one must always think of safety on these mountains. With 
all their beauty and grandeur, they have sufificient capability 
for cruelty to make the blood run cold. They have no mercy 
in them ; no sympathy for the warm hearts beating so near 
their surfaces. They submit passively to conquest, so long as 
man preserves a cool head and sure footing. But let him 
make one false step; let his brain swim, his heart fail, his hand 
falter, and they will hurl him from their icy slopes, or tear 
him to pieces on their jagged tusks, while in the roar of the 
avalanche is heard their demoniac laughter. 




CLIMBERS IN SIGHT. 



70 



SWITZERLAND 



But following the tourists still farther up the mountain, 
we look with dismay at one of the icy crests along which 
the}' must presently advance. Not a charming place for a 
promenade, truly! Here it would seem that one should use 
an alpen-stock rather as a balancing-pole than as a staff. 
It is enough to make even a Blondin falter and retire. For, 
coated with a glare of ice, and bordered on either side by an 
abyss, the slightest misstep would inevitably send one shoot- 
ing down this glittering slope to certain death in one of the 
vast folds of Mont Blanc's royal mantle; 

Lifting now the telescope a little higher, we note another 
difTficulty which mountain-climbers frequently encounter. 
For here they have come face to face wath a perpendicular 
wall of ice which they must climb, or else acknowledge a 
defeat. The bravest, therefore, or the strongest, cuts with 
his ax a sort of stairway in this crystal barrier, and, making 
his way upward by this perilous route, lowers a rope and is 
rejoined by his companions. Imagine doing this in the teeth 
of such wind and cold as must often be met with on these crests! 




ALPINE PERILS. 




THE WEISSBACH. 



SWITZERLAND 



7% 




AN ICE WALL. 



Think of it, 
when a gale is 
tearing off the 
upper snow, 
and driving it 
straight into 
the face in 
freezing spray 
like a shower of 
needles ; when 
the gloves are 
coated with ice, 
and alpen- 
stocks slide 
through them, 
slippery as eels ; 

and when the ice-bound rocks tear off the skin from the half- 
frozen fingers of the man who clings to them for life! 

I know it is customary now to laugh at any dangers on 
Mont Blanc ; and yet a terrible disaster took place there no 
longer ago than 1870. 

In the month of September of that year, a party of eleven 
(including two Americans) started to climb the mountain. 
Near the summit a frightful tempest burst upon them. The 
guides no longer recognized the way, and, unable to return or 
find shelter, the entire party perished. The bodies of five 
were recovered. In the pocket of one of them (an American 
from Baltimore) were found these words, written to his wife : 
" 7th of September, evening. We have been for two days 
on Mont Blanc in a terrific hurricane. We have lost our way, 
and are now at an altitude of fifteen thousand feet. I have 
no longer any hope. We have nothing to eat. My feet are 
already frozen, and I have strength enough only to write 
these words. Perhaps they will be found and given to you. 



74 



SWITZERLAND 



Farewell ; I trust 
that we shall 
meet in heaven!" 
But such a 
mountain as 
Mont Blanc can 
rarely be ascend- 
ed in a single 
day. Two days 
are generally 
given to the task. 
On the evening 
of the first day 
itswould-be con- 
querors reach, 
at a height of 

ten thousand feet, a desolate region called the Grands Mulcts. 

Here on some savage-looking rocks are two small cabins. 

One is intended for a kitchen, the other for a sleeping-room; 




HUTS OF SHELTER ON MONT BLANC. 




WHERE SEVERAi. ALi-lNt 
CLIMBERS REST. 



SWITZERLAND 



75 




A SEA OF CLOUDS. 



that is, if one 
can sleep in such 
a place ; for Avhat 
an excitement 
there must be in 
passing a night 
at this great alti- 
tude! The dis- 
tant stars gleam 
in the frosty air 
with an unwont- 
ed brilliancy and 
splendor. The 

wind surges against the cliffs with the full, deep boom of the 
sea; while the silence in the unmeasurable space above is awe- 
inspiring. 

But, on the morrow, the glorious view repays one for a 
night of sleeplessness. At first one looks apparently upon a 

shoreless ocean, 
whose rolling 
billows seem 
now white, now 
opalescent, in 
the light of 
dawn. Then, 
one by one, the 
various moun- 
tain peaks ap- 
pear like islands 
rising from the 
sea. At last, 
these waves of 
vapor sink slow- 
cAVERNous JAWS. ^ dowttward 




76 



SWITZERLAND 



through the valleys, and disappear in full retreat before the 
god of day. But till they vanish, the traveler could suppose 
that he had here survived the deluge of the world, and was 
watching its huge shrouded corpse at his feet. 

Between the Grands Mulcts and the summit, Mont Blanc 
makes three tremendous steps, from eight hundred to one 
thousand feet in height, and between these are several fright- 
ful chasms, so perilous that on beholding them we catch our 
breath. There is something peculiarly horrible in these cre- 
vasses, yawning gloomily, day and night, as if with a never- 
satisfied hunger. A thousand — nay ten thousand — men in 
their cavernous jaws would not constitute a mouthful. They 
are even more to be dreaded than the avalanche ; for the path 
of the avalanche is usually known ; but these crevasses fre- 
quently hide their black abysses under deceitful coverlets of 
snow, luring unwary travelers to destruction. Nevertheless 
the avalanche is in certain places an ever-present danger. 
Mountains of snow stand toppling on the edge of some stu- 
pendous cliff, apparently waiting merely for the provocation 
of a human voice, intruding on their solitude, to start upon 
their awful plunge. The world well knows the fate of those 

who have ■ ~_,^^__^^ been caught in 

such a tor- ^^^""^ ^., ^""^-^v^ rent of de- 

struc- y^ 1 I \>. tion. 




BASI.E: THK I'.KIDGK AND 
CATHEDRAL. 




A BRIDGE OF ICE. 



SWITZERLAND 



79 



"No breath for words! no time for thought! no play 
For eager muscle! guides, companions, all 
O'ermastered in the unconquerable drift, 
In Nature's grasp held powerless, atoms 
Of her insensate frame, they fared as leaves 
In the dark rapid of November gales, 
Or sands sucked whirling into fell simooms; 
One gasp for breath, one strangled, bitter cry, 
And the cold, wild snow closed smothering in, 
And cast their forms about with icy shrouds. 
And crushed the life out, and entombed them there, — 
Nobler than kings Egyptian in their pyramids, 
Embalmed in the mountain mausoleum. 
And part of all its grand unconsciousness 
Forever. 

Its still dream resumed the Mount; 
The sun his brightness kept; for unto them 
The living men are naught, and naught the dead. 
No more than snows that slide or stones that roll." 

Finally, these and all other dangers being past, the 
wearied but exultant climbers reach the summit of Mont Blanc, 




ENGLISH CHURCH, CHAMONIX 



8o 



SWITZERLAND 



— that strangely silent, white, majestic dome, so pure and 
spotless in its lofty elevation beneath the stars. To watch this 
scene from the \'ale of Chamonix, when the great sovereign of 
our solar system sinks from sight, leaving upon Mont Blanc his 
crown of gold, is an experience that will leave one only with 
one's life. The concentrated refulgence on that solitary dome 
is so intense that one is tempted to believe that the glory of 
a million sunsets, fading from all other summits of the Alps, 
has been caught and imprisoned here. We know that sun 
will rise again ; but who, in such a place, can contemplate un- 
moved the death of Day? 

"The night has a thousand eyes, 

And the day but one; 
Yet the light of the bright world dies, 
With the dying sun! 



The mind has a thousand eyes, 

And the heart but one; 
Yet the light of a whole life dies. 




MOI'NTAIN CLliMliEKS. 



SWITZERLAND 



8i 



One singular experience of Alpine travel is indelibly im- 
pressed upon my memory. It occurred on my passage of the 
Gemmi into the 
valley of the 
Rhone. The 
Gemmi Pass is 
no magnificent 
highway like 
the St. Gott- 
hard, macadam- 
ized and smooth 
and carefully 
walled in by 
parapets of 
stone. It is for 
miles a rough 
and dangerous 
bridle-path, the 
edge of which 

is sometimes decorated with a flimsy rail, but often has not 
even that apology for safety. One can thus readily believe 
that, like the Jordan, the Gemmi is emphatically "a hard 
road to travel." At all events I found it so, especially as I 
crossed it early in the season, before the winter's ravages had 

been repaired- 
Since I was at 
the time suffer- 
ing from a tem- 
porary lameness, 

&^i.^'Ssii-"~ "-iMitrfiiSi ^SWriM iiiiflWMIilWl ^ could walk but 

C - .^gigggigggiigl^^ little. With 

MOUNTAIN MULES. , 1 . 11. 

this road dates 
my first acquaintance with a mule, — an intimacy that will 
never be forgotten ! All day long that memorable beast 




THE BIRTH-PLACE OF AVALANCHES. 




82 



SWITZERLAND 



would never for one instant change his gait, nor was the 
monotony of his dreadful walk once broken by a trot. My 
only consolation was in the thought that if the beast did change 
it, my neck, as well as the monotony, would probably be 
broken. Thus, hour after hour, I kept moving on and up, 
my knees forced wide apart by this great, lumbering wedge, 
until I felt like a colossal wish-bone, and as though I should 
be bow-legged for the rest of my life. 

Nor was this all; for. as the day Avore on, the mule took 

special pains to make my 
blood run cold by a variety 
of acrobatic feats, which 
might have made a cham- 
ois faint with vertigo. 
For example, wherever a 
rail was lacking in the crazy 
fence, he would deliberately 
fill the space with his own 
body and mine, walking so 
dangerously near the brink, 
that half my form would be 
suspended over the abyss! 
Of course, the moment it 
was passed, I laughed or 
scolded, as most travelers 
do; yet, after all, in such cases we never know how great the 
peril may have been. A little stone, a clod of earth, a move- 
ment in the nick of time — these are sometimes the only 
things which lie between one and the great Unknown, and 
hinder one from prematurely solving the mysterious problem 
of existence. 

Nevertheless, on the fearful precipices for which the 
Gemmi is noted, one may be pardoned for being a trifle nerv- 
ous. At certain points the bridle-path so skirts the chasm 




SWITZERLAND 



83 




UP AMONG THE CLOUDS. 



that one false 

step Avould land 

the fragments of 

your body on the 

rocks a thousand 

feet below; while, 

on the other side, 

the mountain 

towers up abrupt 

and bare, with 

scarce a shrub or 

tree to cling to 

or console the 

dizzy traveler. 

My flesh creeps 

now to think of 

some of these places; and in the same space of time I think I 

never repented of so many sins, as during that passage of the 

Gemmi. At 
length, however, 
the climax 
seemed reached ; 
for at the brink 
of one abyss the 
path appeared 
to end. I cau- 
tiously advanced 
to the edge and 
looked over. It 
was a fearful 
sight, for here 
the mountain 
falls away to a 
sheer depth of 







^^ 






^^'^otB 






^H^fe' " 1^^ 






.^p^^^^^^^^Si^^^^ 




..s^^ 


^^^^^^^^^^mhi 




r .:::%^-- f* 


^^^^^^^gijpBl|||B||B^^jii^i^i^^8pBB 




1 • ,^ 


^gl^^^p^^^^^^^^^ 




\ 


#■ 1 


I^^S^^^H^^^ 




4 


^ .jS' 




g 


1 


f> 





ON THE GEMMI. 



84 



SWITZERLAND 



sixteen lumtlred feet, and the plumb-line might drop to that 
full length without encountering any obstacle. 

When Alexander Dumas came to this place, and (unpre- 
pared for \\-hat he was to see) looked down from the brink of 
the stupendous precijiice, he fell back unconscious; and after- 
A\ard, while making the descent, his teeth so chattered with 
nervousness, that he placed his folded handkerchief between 

them. Yet 
when, on reach- 
ing the valley,' 
he removed it, 
he found it had 
been cut through 
and through as 
with a razor. I 
cannot, certain- 
ly, lay claim to 
nervousness like 
that; but I could 
sympathize with 
one of our fel- 
1 o A\' - CO u n t r }' - 
men, against 

LEUK. 

whose name on 
the hotel register I next day saw these words: " Thank God, 
we don't raise such hills as these in the State of New York!" 
At the other side of the Gemmf, and almost at the base of 
these gigantic cliffs, there lies a little village. When I stood 
on the precipice above it, I thought that a pebble hurled 
thence from my hand would fall directly on its roofs; but in 
reality their distance from the cliffs was greater than it seemed. 
This village is the celebrated Leuk, whose baths have now 
acquired a world-wide reputation. Leuk has, however, this 
misfortune: so many strangers come here now to bathe, that 




SWITZERLAND 



85 



many of the in- 
habitants them- 
selves think that 
they can dis- 
pense with the 
luxury. 

I never shall 
forget the baths 
ofLeuk. Shades 
of theMermaids ! 
what a sight they 
presented. In a 
somewhat shab- 
by hall, contain- 
ing great com- 
partments of hot 
water, I saw a multitude of 
haired, light and dark, male 




PARBOILED PATIENTS. 




A LOW BRIDGE. 



heads — long-haired and short- 
and female — bobbing about like 
buoys adorned with 
sea-weed. A fine 
chance this to study 
physiognomy, pure 
and simple. In front 
of these amphibious 
creatures were float- 
ing tables, upon 
which they could 
eat, drink, knit, 
read, and even play 
cards to pass away 
the time. As these 
waters are chiefly 
used for skin dis- 
eases, one might 



86 



SWITZERLAND 



suppose that each bather would prefer a separate room ; but 
no, in this case "misery loves company." The length of 
time which one must remain soaking in these tanks of hot 
water makes solitary bathing unendurable. 

I asked one of these heads ho^\• long it had to float here 
daily. The mouth opened just above the water's edge and 
answered: "Eight hours, Monsieur; four before luncheon, 
and four before dinner; and, as after each bath we have 
to spend an hour in bed, ten hours a day are thus consumed." 
It may seem incredible, but I assure the reader that some 
of these parboiled bathers actually sleep while in these tanks. 
I, myself, saw a head drooped backward as though severed 
from the body. Its eyes were closed ; its mouth was slightly 
open ; and from the nose a mournful sound came forth at 
intervals, which told me that the man Avas snoring. Before 
him, half-supported by the little table, half- 
bedraggled in the flood, was a newspaper. 
Bending over the rail, I read the title. 
Poor man! I no longer wondered 
that he slept. Those who have 
read the ponderous sheet will under- 
stand its soporific effect. 
It was a copy of the Lon- 
don Times. 

After the baths of 
Leuk and the stupendous 
precipices of the Gemmi, 
it is a pleasure to approach 
a less imposing but more 
beautiful part of Switzer- 
land, — Geneva and its 
lake. The bright, cream- 
colored buildings of the 
one present a beautiful 

V 3 




A WAITKESS AT 1.KLK. 




NATIONAL MONUMENT - GENEVA. 



SWITZERLAND 



89 



contrast to the 
other's deep blue 
waves. Next to 
Stockholm and 
Naples, Geneva 
has, I think, the 
loveliest situ- 
ation of any city 
in Europe. 
Curved, cres- 
cent-like, around 
the southwest 
corner of the lake, the river Rhone with arrowy swiftness 
cleaves it into two parts, thus furnishing the site for all the 
handsome quays and bridges which unite the various sections 
of the town. 

What a surprising change has taken place in the appear- 
ance of the river Rhone since it first poured its waters into 




THE RHONE AT GENEVA. 




tf^ GENEVA — THE BRUNSWICK MONUMENT. 



90 



SWITZERLAND 



Lake Geneva at its other extremity, forty-five miles away! 
There it is muddy, dark, and travel-stained from its long jour- 
ney down the valley. But here it has become once more as 
pure as when it left its cradle in the glaciers. Its sojourn in 
the lake has given it both beauty and increased vitality; and 
as it starts again upon its course and darts out from Geneva 
with renewed strength and speed, its waters are superbly blue 
and clear as crystal. 

As it emerges from the lake, a sharp-pointed island con- 
fronts the rapid 
stream, as if 
awaiting its ad- 
vance. Its sta- 
tion here before 
the city resem- 
bles that of some 
fair maid of 
honor who pre- 
cedes a queen. 
It is called Rous- 
seau's Island, in 
honor of the 
famous man 
whose birth the 
city claims. Geneva certainly should be grateful to him, for 
it was he who first made this fair lake renowned in literature, 
and called to it the attention of the world. In fact, he did 
almost as much to render famous this enchanting spot, as 
Scott did for the region of the Trosachs. Appropriately, 
therefore, a fine bronze statue of Rousseau has been erected 
on the island, the figure looking up the lake, like the presid- 
ing genius of the place. 

One can with both pleasure and profit spend a fortnight in 
Geneva. Its well-kept and luxurious hotels all front upon the 




ROUSSEAU S ISLAND. 



SWITZERLAND 



91 



quays, and from your windows there (as from the Grand Hotel 
in Stockholm) you look upon an ever-varying panorama^ — a 
charming combination of metropolitan and aquatic life. 
Boats come and go at frequent intervals, accompanied by the 

sound of music. The 

long perspectives of the 

^ ~' different bridges, full of 

-^"^ animated life, afford 



>- 



n-:~: 



Ij^tJtilMiutl^ 



#1 m\ irw^i HLm. 






^aWrn^^ 



GENEVA — KUE DE IIONT BLANC 




perpetual entertainment; while, in 
dull weather, the attractive shops, 
in some respects unrivaled in the 
whole of Europe, tempt you, be- 
yond your power to resist, to purchase music- 
boxes or enameled jewelry. After all, one's greatest pleasure 
here is to embark upon the lake itself. This famous body of 
water forms a beautiful blue crescent, forty-five miles in 
length and eight in breadth. Tyndall declared that it had 
the purest natural water ever analyzed; Voltaire called it the 
"First of Lakes;" Alexander Dumas compared it to the 
Bay of Naples; while Victor Hugo, Lamartine, and Byron 
have given it boundless praise in their glowing verse. It 
has been estimated that should the lake henceforth receive 



SWITZERLAND 




no further increase, while having still the river 
Rhone for its outlet, it would require ten years to 
exhaust its volume. It might be likened, there- 
fore, to a little inland 
sea. In fact, a pretty 
legend says that the 
ocean-deity, Neptune, 
came one day to see 
Lake Leman, and, en- 
raptured with its fresh 
young beauty, gave to 
it, on departing, his 
likeness in miniature, 
[oreover, it has another charm 
— that of historical association. 
Its shores have been the residence of men of genius. Both 
history and poetry have adorned its banks with fadeless wreaths 
of love and fame. Each hill that rises softly from its waves is 
crowned with some distinguished memory. Byron has often 
floated on its surface ; and here he wrote some portions of 
"Childe Harold," which will be treasured to the end of time. 




DOGS AT WORK — GENEVA 




SWITZERLAND 



95 



The poet Shelley narrowly escaped drowning in its waters. 
At one point Madame de Stael lived in exile; another saw 
Voltaire for years maintaining here his intellectual court; 
while at Lausanne, upon the memorable night which he 
has well described, Gibbon concluded 

his immortal 
Decline 




LAUSANNE, ON LAKE GENEVA. 



of the Roman Empire." But of all portions of Lake Leman, 
that which charms one most is the neighborhood of Montreux 
and Vevey, and the historic Castle of Chillon. A poet's 
inspiration has made this place familiar to the world. No 
English-speaking traveler, at least, can look upon these towers, 



96 



SWITZERLAND 



rising from the waves, without re- 
calling Byron's " Prisoner of Chil- 
lon," and reciting its well-known 
lines: 

"Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls: 
A thousand feet in depth below 
Its massy waters meet and flow; 
Thus much the fathom-line was sent 
From Chillon's snow-white battlement." 

This time-worn structure boasts 
a thousand years of story and ro- 
mance. In fact, more than a thou- 
sand years ago, Louis le Debonnaire 
imprisoned here a traitor to his king. 
Here, also, five centuries ago, hundreds of Jews were tortured, 
and then buried alive, on the infamous suspicion of poisoning 

the wells of ^_______ Europe. But 

of all ^^.^---^^^ ~~~~~~~-~~~^ the 




WHILE THE STEAMER WAITS. 




memories \vhich cluster 

round its walls the most 

familiar is that of Bonni- 

vard, the Swiss patriot, who 

anguished for six years in its 



SWITZERLAND 



97 




f 11 'im ^ ° t ' If 



dark dungeon, till he was released by the efforts of his enthu- 
siastic countrymen. During those gloomy years of captivity 
his jailers heard 
from him no cry 
and no com- 
plaint, save when 
some tempest 
swept the lake. 
Then,, when the 
wind moaned, as 
if in sympathy, 
around the tow- 
ers, and waves 
dashed high 
against the 
walls, they could 
distinguish sobs 
and cries, prov- 
ing that, when apparently alone with God, the captive sought 
to give his burdened soul relief. 

"Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, 

And thy sad floor an altar — for ' t was trod 

Until his very steps have left a trace 

Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, 

By Bonnivard! — May none those marks efface! 
For they appeal from tyranny to God." 

When finally his liberators burst into his cell, they found 
him pale and shadow-like, still chained to the column around 
which he had walked so many years. A hundred voices cried 
to him at once: " Bonnivard, you are free! " The prisoner 
slowly rose, and his first question was: "And Geneva?" 
"Free, also!" was the answer. 

One night, some eighty years ago, a little boat came 
toward this castle, leaving behind it in its course a furrow 



ON THE SHORE. 



98 



SWITZERLAND 




CASTLE OF CHILLON. 



silvered by the moon. As it readied tlie shore, there sprang 
from it a man enveloped in a long black cloak, which almost 

hid his feet from 
view. A close 
observer would 
have seen, how- 
ever, that he 
limped slightly. 
He asked to see 
the historic dun- 
geon, and lin- 
gered there an 
hour alone. 
When he had gone, they found on the stone column to which 
Bonnivard had been chained a new name carved. The traveler 
sees it there to- 
day. It is the 
name of Byron. 
There is in 
Switzerland a 
village superior 
even to Chamo- 
nix in grandeur 
of location, dom- 
inated by a 
mountain more 
imposing even 
than Mont 
Blanc. The 
town isZermatt ; 
the mountain is 
the Matterhorn. 
As we approach it, we discern only a tiny part of its environ- 
ment ; but could we soar aloft with the eagle, and take a 




IHE DlNGIiON OF CHll.lJ 




THE MATTERHORN EXACTED SPEEDY VENGEANCE. 



SWITZERLAND 



lOI 




HISTORIC WATERS. 



bird's-eye view of it, the little village would appear to have 
been caught in a colossal trap of rock and ice. There is, in 
fact, no path to 
it, save over dan- 
gerous passes, 
or through a 
narrow cleft in 
the encircling 
mountains, down 
which a river 
rushes with im- 
petuous fury; 
while, watching 
over it, like some divinely-stationed sentinel, rises the awful 
Matterhorn, the most unique and imposing mountain of the 

Alps. No view 
can possibly 
do it justice; 
yet, anticipate 
what you will, 
it is here im- 
possible to be 
disappointed. 
Though every 
other object 
of the world 
should fail, the 
Matterhorn 
must stir the 
heart of the 
most u n i m - 

ZERMATT. 

pressive trav- 
eler. Not only does its icy wedge pierce the blue air at a 
height of fifteen thousand feet above the sea, but its gaunt, 




I02 



SWITZERLAND 



tusk-likc form emerges from the surrounding glaciers with 
almost perpendicular sides, four thousand feet in height. It is 
a mani- ^i « i,, festation of the power of 



th( 



D 



eity, beside which all the 
works of man dwindle 
to insignificance. I 
never grew accus- 
tomed to this, as 
to other mountains. 
No matter when I 
gazed upon its sharp- 

4 

cut edges and its ice- 
bound 
<i^u- rocks, 

I felt, as 
when I first be- 
held it, completely 
overpowered by its magnitude. The history of this colossal 
pyramid is as tragic as its grim form is awe-inspiring. The 
mountain is known as the " Fiend of the Alps." Year after 




SAFE FROM 

MOUNTAIN PERILS. 




FALLS OF THE RHINE, SCHAFFHAUSEN. 



SWITZERLAND 



103 




THE FIEND OF THE 



year it had been 
luring to itself, 
with fearful fas- 
cination, scores 
of brave men 
who longed to 
scale its appal- 
ling cliffs. Over 
its icy pedestal, 
— up its precip- 
itous sides, — 
yes, even to its 
naked shoul- 
ders, baffled 
and wistful 
mountaineers 

struggled in vain. Upon its perpendicular rocks several men 
had all but perished ; but the warnings were unheeded. At 

length, after per- 
sistent efforts 
for eleven years, 
the famous Eng- 
lish mountain- 
climber, Whym- 
per, gained the 
summit. But in 
return for the 
humiliation of 
this conquest the 
Matterhorn ex- 
acted speedy 
vengeance. 

As the suc- 

MOONLIGHT ON THE MATTERHORN. LcSSlLll pdlLy, 




104 



SWITZERLAND 



consisting of four Englishmen and three guides, elated by 
their victory, were just beginning their descent, one of them 
slipped, knocking a guide completely ofl his feet and dragging 
his companions after him, since all were bound together by a 
rope. Four of them hung an instant there, head downward, 
between earth and heaven. The other three clung desperately 
to the icy _^^^^^^^^^^^^,^ crags, and 

would ^.•«»<!rti!HHHI^^^H^^^^Hliliifo»>. - have 




-• . . ' ' 'i. 1,' 
^'^' ''yfl m^'^^-J^''^ rescued them, had not the rope 

\y ' \ lA -jfeer"^ between them broken. There was 

^ f-JClSi/^' ^ fearful cry — a rush of falling 

■^^Pl^- n ' bodies. Then Whymper and two guides 

found themselves clinging to the rocks, and 

looking into each other's haggard faces, pale as 

death. The others had fallen over the precipice — nearly 

four thousand feet — to the ice below! 

" One moment stood they, as the angels stand, 
High in the stainless eminence of air; 
The next, they were not; — to their Fatherland 
Translated unaware!" 




THE MATTERHORN. 



SWITZERLAND 



107 



On my last evening at Zermatt, I lingered in the deepen- 
ing twilight to say farewell to this unrivaled peak. At first 
its clear-cut silhouette stood forth against the sky, unutter- 
ably grand, while darkness shrouded its giant form. So 
overwhelming appeared its tapering height, that I no longer 
wondered at the belief of the peasants that the gate of Para- 
dise was situated on its summit ; because it seemed but a 
step thence to Heaven. 

At last there came a change, for which I had been waiting 
with impatience. In the blue vault of heaven the full-orbed 
moon came forth to sheathe the Matterhorn in silver. In that 
refulgent light its icy edges looked 

like crystal ^ -.,^^ ropes; and 




'«ta»»ttJi«»JU»B«J"* ' 



THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 



io8 



SWITZERLAND 



its sharp, glistening rocks resembled silver steps leading to the 
stupendous pinnacle above. Never, this side the shore of 
Eternity, do I expect to see a vision so sublime as that of 
moonlight on the Matterhorn. For from the gleaming parapets 
of this Alpine pyramid, not " forty centuries," but forty 
thousand ages look down on us as frivolous pygmies of a day. 
Yes, as I gazed on this illumined obelisk, rising from out its 
glittering sea of ice, to where — four thousand feet above — 
the moving stars flashed round its summit like resplendent 
gems, it seemed a fitting emblem of creative majesty — the 
scepter of Almighty God. 




^^'^'^i^^-'':- 



A SWISS HEKO. 



LECTURE I 



NORWAY 



^ I "^HE first lecture of the series Mr. Jolin L. Stoddard 
devotes to NORWAY, and he furnishes a strik- 
ingly realistic portrayal of this land of the Sagas and 
Vikings. The 128 illustrations — reproductions of 
photographs made for Mr. Stoddard on the spot — are 
worthy accompaniments of the sparkling text. 

As we read it we fancy ourselves sailing up the 
picturesque fjords and whirling along the mountain- 
roads — on, onward from Christiania, through scenery 
varied by cascades and precipices — on till we reach 
the North Cape, and view, just above the waves, 

THE MIDNIGHT SUN 



This first lecture will be sent, post-paid, on receipt 
of the introductory price charged for the second lecture. 



LECTURE II 



Athens -Venice 



TN this lecture Mr. John L. Stoddard transports to the 
-^ shores of the Mediterranean the readers who have 
been his companions in Norway. The picturesque 
fjord gives place to the languid canal, and the long 
stretch of Northern Water is exchanged for the classic 
y^gean. In Athens and Venice every structure has a 
histor}- and every spot a legend. Architectural master- 
pieces abound and make good the lack of scenery, such 
as environed us on our way to view the Midnight Sun. 
In Mr. Stoddard's compan}" we recall much of Venetian 
and Athenian history, and in a very pleasing way are 
brought to associate the existing monuments of two fa- 
mous cities with their roles in the grand drama of 
History. 

12 1 ILLUSTRATIONS, 

elegant reproductions of Mr. Stoddard's own photo- 
graphs, embellish the masterly text and make us familiar 
with the appearance of historic sites and scenes. 

The Lecture on Athens and Venice will be sent 
post-paid at the same remarkably low price asked for 
Mr. Stoddard's Lecture on Norway. 



LECTURE III 



JERUSALEM 



A/fR- JOHN L. STODDARD devotes the third 
^ ^ lecture of the series to Jerusalem and its 
environs, conducting us to spots familiar by name 
to all Bible-readers, and recounting, in his inimitable 
way, the religious and historical associations of each. 
Under the magic of his words, time and space are as 
naught; we stand where Jesus stood, we gaze upon the 
same scenes that the Disciples knew. What a flood of 
ideas overwhelms us! We linger on the Mount of 
Olives, we look wistfully upon a landscape changed and 
darkened by the vicissitudes of nineteen centuries. An 
alien race now dwells where Christianity had its lowly 
birth, but no alien faith can bar its march. It has gone 
forth to the uttermost ends of the earth, and, as tokens 
of its power, we see to-day gorgeous shrines and 
churches erected here by nations beyond the sea. 

I 20 ILLUSTRATIONS 

all of them reproduced from special photographs, adorn 
the text and heighten the reader's interest. 

Lecture III will be sent, postpaid, at the same low 
introductory price asked for ATHENS and VENICE. 



JOHN L. STODDARD'S 
LECTURES 



Illustrated and Embellished with Views of the World's 
Famous Places and People, being the identical discourses 
delivered during the past eighteen years under the title of 
The Stoddard Lectures. 



VOL. I NOW READY 



VOLUME I CONTAINS MR. STODDARD'S LECTURES ON 

NORWAY, SWITZERLAND, 
ATHENS-VENICE 



Ove7' j6o Beautiful Reproductions of Photographs 



Sold only by subscription. To be completed in Ten 
Octavo Volumes. 



BELFORD, MIDDLEBROOK & CO. 

PUBLISHERS 

CHICAGO, ILL. 



LECTURE V 



CONSTANTINOPLE 



Our fifth tour with Mr. John L. Stoddard takes us to the 
" City of the Sultan," which, as Napoleon long ago foresaw, has 
become the hub of European poHtics. In Mr. Stoddard's company 
we are inclined to call it the hub of tourist interest, so charmingly 
varied are the scenes and themes that here engage our attention. 
Together with the bits of history and romance which the genial 
lecturer weaves into his descriptions, we secure accurate ideas of 
Turkish life and affairs, and, long before we complete the tour, we 
are willing to accord a high plane of importance to these defenders 
of Islam. Lecture V contains 



109 Illustrations, 



reproduced from special photographs, uniform in artistic finish with 
those that embellish the preceding issues of the series. 

The Lecture on Constantinople will be sent, postpaid, at 
the low introductory price charged for the previous ones. 



THE LAKESIDE PRESS, R. R. UONNELLEV Si SONS COMPANY, PRINTERS, CHICAGO. 



OCT 1 8 ^Mii 










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